


Holiday Blues

by miscreant_rose



Series: Cancelled 'verse [3]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-08 02:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1923702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miscreant_rose/pseuds/miscreant_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary & Matthew are back in London after being snowed in at a hotel in Boston, but the holiday season is here.  will things slow down enough for them to even broach all the tension raised by that blizzard?  This will be a multi-chapter collection of drabbles/ficlets that cover a few weeks after our favorite two are back on home soil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "But what happened when they got home from that snowstorm in Boston?" This is the most asked Cancelled verse question, the one I've known the answer to for a while - just needed to pull it all together. And I'm just so tickled you all ask and are as in love with these two in my modern AU, because they completely take over my brain when I write them.
> 
> This will be a multi-chapter collection of drabbles/ficlets that cover a few weeks after our favorite two are back on home soil.

**HOLIDAY BLUES — Chapter 1**

The sink was filled to the brim with suds before he reached for the first glass and the wash rag. He didn't know why, but there was something calming about washing dishes. Whenever he was home for the holidays, he insisted his mother leave them stacked by the sink, sending her and Richard to the lounge to enjoy whatever Christmas Eve movie they would settle on. This year was no different, and his mind took advantage of the quiet and was miles away.

He needed the catharsis of the soap and hot water to clear his head. Or so he hoped. But the more he thought about it — about her — the more his head filled up with thoughts of her, much like the sink of dirty pots and dishes now overflowing with bubbles.

"Do you want me to dry?"

Startled by the voice, Matthew turned to find his mother in the doorway. Something told him she had been standing there watching him a while.

"If you would like."

He focused back on the saucepan he was working on as his mother picked up a towel and began to dry the glasses he had already placed on the drainboard.

"You were quiet at dinner. You're not upset about Richard's children coming with their families tomorrow, are you? I know it isn't our usual tradition, but I thought it might be a nice change."

He looked at Isobel in confusion. "Why would I be upset? We hardly have a chance to see each other; I'm rather looking forward to it."

Isobel nodded, putting the dry glasses away. "I had hoped that would be your reaction. But I wasn't sure with, well," her pause was a bit over-dramatic, as was the look she gave Matthew. "Well, given the recent break-up, if a gathering of the young married and little ones would bother you."

He shook his head, focusing back on the sink. "Stop walking on eggshells, Mother. I'm fine. Lavinia is fine. You can say her name. There is no ill will or anyone being upset. It … happened." He shrugged, giving her a smile. "We both saw the problems in front of us, and —" he tried not to wince at the lie, that Lavinia had been the one to see things, not him. "And, well, we made the right decision and called off our engagement."

Isobel studied him for a second with drawn brows, before picking up another wet dish. "Well, then. I'm glad you are comfortable with it all. So, how is Mary?"

The plate he was washing slipped from his fingers, hitting the bottom of the sink with a loud clatter. He tried to ignore it and the smile he could tell was on his mother's face.

"She's fine. Why do you ask?"

Isobel smiled and focused all her attention on drying the plates. "Oh, no reason. I just expect she's had quite the year with joining your firm and I can only imagine how her holiday is going to be with her parents."

He shook his head. Subtle, Mother, very subtle. "I don't know personally how her year has been, but I know I can say for Downton, we are more than pleased with her coming aboard. She's looking to meet her initial capital investment with new clients she'll have brought in by the close of the first quarter next year at the rate she is going. As for the family drama," he raised a brow at his mother who was trying not to grin too widely, "Tom has said as long as there is nothing that's made the national headlines out of London by Boxing Day morning, Mary and Sybil will have survived four days staying with their parents."

"And Tom?"

Matthew chuckled. "Him as well. But he's done this holiday with the in-laws and Grantham Agency chairman for a couple years now. It will be Mary's first year as the target for Robert's tongue for having jumped ship."

"You could have invited her here, you know."

He let go of the sponge and turned to face his mother, letting his exasperated expression do all the talking before Isobel finally looked away.

"Are you still planning on heading down there the day after tomorrow?"

He nodded. "I think it has become expected now. Robert even called me last week to make sure I'd be there." Matthew shook his head, still not able to understand Robert Crawley and his family dynamic. He'd known the man for nearly a decade, and yet Robert's take on the women of his family and business was still a baffling and contradictory mess. Despite Robert's anger with first Tom, and now Mary, for leaving the Grantham firm to join Matthew at Downton — the firm Matthew started on his own after his tenure with Robert — Robert still remained friendly with Matthew. To the point of encouraging him to join in family events ("After all, we're probably related generations back!"), and Boxing Day dinner with the Crawleys of London was now clearly a tradition in Robert's mind.

"I'm glad he includes you with that."

Matthew shrugged, not wanting to confirm his own reasons he was glad to be included, reasons that had nothing to do with Robert. "Well, I may need to rescue Tom and Sybil by then."

"And Mary."

Trust her to know his weaknesses too well. He shot her another hot glance. "Mary has her own escape plan, trust me."

And he was sure he had nothing to do with it.

They put away the last of the glasses, and he shooed his mother back to the lounge as he was wiping down the counters and settling the kitchen for the night, making sure both the coffee and tea kettle were ready for the morning. Somehow his plan to calm his mind had backfired, and he could tell he was anxiously clenching his jaw over thoughts of Mary. The weeks since their time in Boston had been a mad flurry of new business generated and the rush to get proposals and contracts in place before the holidays brought most everything to a standstill.

It had been the perfect way for Mary to side-step him about anything except business.

But now, a holiday evening with her, no way for her to escape, he didn't know where or how he wanted to initiate the conversation — or something — or even now if he should.

No, he knew he should. The problem was if Robert didn't have Mary running for a way out, Matthew approaching her with anything not work related definitely would.

So where is this all headed? Any ideas? I'd love to hear your thoughts and feedback!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The holidays continue, now at the Crawley's London home, where even grown children who live in town are expected to stay and enjoy the tension, I mean festivities. You'll notice in this universe that I absolutely adore this modern version of Sybil and Tom.

**HOLIDAY BLUES — Chapter 2**

Propped on her elbows across her bed, Mary scrolled through a magazine on her iPad, bookmarking ideas occasionally. Sybil slipped in without knocking.

Mary's eyes didn't leave the screen. "Do not tell me you left Tom on his own down there."

Sybil snorted before flopping down on the bed on her back next to Mary. "Not likely. We pulled your classic, 'say we are tired and want to lie down for a bit but we really just want to get the hell away from you arses for an hour or two, thanks' bit."

"Thank you," Mary said dryly, making a face as she glanced at Sybil.

"Yes, but you do it with such class, everyone feels happy to be told to stuff it by you."

Mary noticed how Sybil's hands where cradled over the slight bump of her belly, slowly rubbing up and down, already perfecting her motherly caress. There was an odd twinge of something deep down in herself she didn't quite recognize, but it caused the oddest sensation of jealousy towards her little sister.

"Happy?" she said softly.

Sybil turned to look at her, face aglow with some kind of grace Mary had never seen in her before. Deep blue eyes shone with joy, her smile was that of the Mona Lisa, and just everything about her expression fit the term 'over the moon.'

Sybil nodded, and breathed out a gleeful, "Oh, Mary! Honestly, I can't believe this kind of happiness was possible!"

"Even with morning sickness, migraines, and shifting weight?"

Sybil waved a hand with a dismissive gesture. "Now worth every second. And honestly that all seems so trivial when you think about the bigger picture."

Mary grinned back at her, turning away as the pure bliss on her sister's face was almost too much, but Sybil continued. "I highly recommend this for you. Really. As soon as possible."

It was a dry, nearly cynical chuckle that slipped from Mary at that. "Not likely, thanks."

"No, Mary, really. Sybil pressed a hand to her arm. "I want you to be happy; we all do."

Mary arched a brow with surprise but still refused to meet her sister's gaze. "Sometimes happiness isn't for everyone."

Sybil sat up sharply at that, clutching tightly at Mary's arm. "No, Mary, don't say that, don't even think like that! You can't possibly believe that."

She just shook her head at Sybil's insistence, not looking up from the screen full of images she was beyond seeing. Too much in her life had been constant confirmation to her that happiness was not something she had been cut out for. From childhood, through her teens, and through uni, everything good happened to others. She's get a glimmer every now and then, only to have it taken away at the last moment. She had plenty in life to be grateful for, but actual happiness, this crazy glow her sister always seemed to have? It seemed to exist just to mock her and remind her she didn't deserve it.

She had made too many mistakes, pushed too many away from her, tried too many shortcuts to what she thought was real, only to find it crumble away in front of her. Each time, one more piece of her soul shadowed over and was locked away forever, trying to hide the ugly scars even from herself.

Still Sybil, her joyful younger sister who could seemingly turn any situation into a positive was staring at her with a fierce intensity, and rubbing her shoulders. Mary sucked up her resolve to play along.

"Stop trying to coddle me, you know it doesn't work," she said, letting out an over-exaggerated sigh and playfully twitching her shoulders until Sybil stopped her mothering touch and lay back down, now trying to peer up into Mary's face. Mary had to hide a smirk trying to continue to ignore Sybil.

"You've just had a run of bad luck with guys lately, that's all."

There it was, Sybil looking at everything in sunshine, never in rain.

"Bad luck? All I was missing was a serial killer in there, Syb," she quipped.

"It hasn't been that bad! Has it?"

Mary laughed. "Maybe not. But if we are talking anything close to marriage material, even if I could fathom that." The shudder that coursed over her was completely involuntary, imaging what a disappointment she'd be to someone as a wife, especially given what had to be her incompetence as a girlfriend. "Let's not even bring the idea of baby into it. And besides, I'm not exactly maternal like you. Who says a marriage and kids are for me? Maybe I'll follow Edith's lead and find some old codger with one foot in the grave, kids already installed and past the messy house-breaking stage."

Sybil snorted loudly, "Oh God, please don't! I don't think we can handle another Sir Anthony. Not to mention another Edith. Oh, no, sorry, Lady Strallan!" Sybil was able to mimic Edith's tone perfectly even as she rolled her eyes.

They dissolved into laughter as they tried to mimic Edith and Anthony's conversation over dinner, and Edith's attempting to preen over accomplishments of step-children who were at least five years older than her and not even on speaking terms with their step-mother.

Sybil, was panting with exhaustion, and wiping tears from the corners of her eyes, as Mary finally caught her breath, and tried to suppress the last lingering giggle.

Grinning over at her, eyes still bright, Sybil asked, "But seriously, Mary, what about Matthew?"

The mention of his name sent an electric shock down Mary's spine and ignited embers at the base of her belly that never seemed to go out these days. She glanced at Sybil, and it was clear this had been the intent of her conversation all along.

"What do you mean, 'What about Matthew?'"

Sybil's blue-green eyes sparkled up at her. "I mean, he's available, and you two have always kind of —"

"Hated each other?"

"You might have, but I still say it is denial on your part. Besides he has always been crazy for you."

She should not be treading into this territory with Sybil. Her sister was too crafty for this.

She sighed. "Okay, first off, he has not been 'crazy for me,' so let's just stop being delusional on that count." She raised her hand, cutting Sybil off before she could protest. "And second of all, I don't think a guy who has been engaged to your former flat-mate and friend can ever properly be considered 'available.' So, can we drop it?"

"We've hardly picked it up," Sybil's tone was full of sass. "And don't even try the Lavinia argument when the whole reason he ended up going out with her was because she was trying to get you two together. Even she's known for ages you two are ideal for each other! Remember, she is the one who originally tried to set the two of you up."

"With a horrible result."

"You were very different people back then. All of you."

Mary rolled her eyes, "Oh my God, Sybil, stop it! They didn't just go out on a few dates; they were engaged. That's not an accident on Lavinia's part."

"But I'm pretty sure it was on Matthew's. After all, the point is they are not engaged anymore because they knew they weren't right for each other."

She raised a brow at Sybil and the confidence in her tone, and gave her a stern look. "And how do you know this for certain?"

Sybil's smile was sly and cat-like. "I do happen to share a bed with Matthew's best friend. You'd be surprised some of the stuff guys will actually share with each other after a few pints."

Her sister was down-right devious, but clearly got away with it thanks to her angelic appearance. Mary shook her head and was silent, eyes unfocused past some point at the rom's edge. This was everything she'd already turned over and over in her own head, even with that last small hopeful piece of herself, but the result was always the same.

Sybil sighed loudly. "Okay, have you heard from Lavinia?"

Why did she think Sybil already knew the answer to this question? Mary hesitated a second before finally answering cautiously. "Yes, a couple months ago. We tried to get together, but she ended up having to go back to Cambridge to look after her dad. I might owe her a note back."

"And Matthew?"

Confused, Mary looked back at Sybil. "'And Matthew,' what? Has he heard from Lavinia, or have I heard from him? I do work with him, you know."

"Mmm, yes on occasion, I've heard." Sybil wink somehow made Mary's cheeks suddenly flush, and she wondered just what Tom had heard — and then shared — about that damned blizzard in Boston. "I meant, have the two of you bothered at any point to talk to each other about something other than work?"

"Because?" She was feeling out of practice for these kind of games, and Sybil was a much sharper player than Mary had ever given her credit for.

"Because he is mad for you, and you should know it by now."

Mary dropped her head into hands, unable to shake the tingling of her nerves with all the talk about Matthew. "Sybil, please stop trying to complicate my life right now. I really don't think I can handle it."

The muffled quiet of Mary's voice must have tipped her sister off to how close she was to breaking down. A gentle hand pressed against her shoulders, gently soothing her. An equally calm and no longer teasing voice followed, "It doesn't have to be a complication, Mary. Not for you two. You more than anyone I know deserves to be happy, and I know the two of you could be happy together."

"How?" The question bubbled up from somewhere, passing her lips and barely audible even to her own ears.

Sybil leaned down to press a kiss to the top of Mary's head, squeezing her gently.

"Just believe you deserve it, and trust in what you want."

She shivered, a cold that clutched at her heart and made it hurt all the more at the words. How many times had she tried to trust only to lose it all? She again felt as though she were on the edge of a cliff, ready to step off into nothingness, no one to catch her, no faith that there could be anything actually waiting for her. Unbidden, the feeling of strong arms around her, pulling her close into warmth, slipped into her mind, memories too precious, too special to be recalled even in the dark of a sleepless night. There was no question or admitting to herself how much she actually wanted Matthew, but that was something she couldn't share with herself, never mind her sister. Especially one so adept at pillow talk.

A step forward in faith? That he would actually be there to catch her if she fell? This could be so much more than a mere complication in her life, it cold be an utter disaster. But maybe her little sister, too wise and perceptive in oh so many ways was right, and Mary would have to learn to trust again.

And if she had to pick the one person on earth she could actually think of trusting, she knew it would be Matthew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love!

**Author's Note:**

> Would love to know your thoughts!


End file.
